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DIFFICULT MANEUVER—The “Courbetter” is one of the most complicated steps that a horse
can do. Here a Lipizzaner executes the move perfectly.
Lipizzaners’ ‘ballet’
delights old, young
By CIMA STAR
Copley News Service
NEW YORK - The Royal
lipizzaners, with their sleek,
snowy coats and flowing manes
and tails; their incredible leaps
and twists, seem almost un
real, like horses out of some
mythological dream.
In Vienna, they perform
every Sunday morning at the
Hofburg Palace, delighting
children and parents with their
fabulous “airs above the
ground.’’
These steps, graceful feats,
impossible for all other horses,
of rearing straight into the air,
then soaring off the ground
with their rear hooves, or the
four-legged leaps into the air
from a standing position, and
the complicated series of pre
cisely coordinated dance steps,
have won their reputation as
the world’s only equestrian bal
let.
Only 38 IJpizzaners exist in
America; only a few hundred of
the breed have ever existed at
one time in the world. So it will
be a special treat for people of
all ages to see some of these
stallions during the next few
months. “The Wonderful World
of Horses” is on a 40-week tour
which will go from Buffalo,
N.Y., to Anaheim, Calif., and
points in between.
Producers Gary and Philip
Lashinsky have created a
unique family show, featuring
not only the lipizzaners, but al
so palominos, Arabians, An
dalusians, saddlebreds and
Morgans.
Children especially love the
reenactment of the bittersweet
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tale of the Morgan. The story is
that of a boy named Justin
Morgan and his pet colt,
Figure, and their adventures
together over the years, which
resulted in founding America’s
only native breed.
Stardust, a magnificent Mor
gan stallion with a chestnut
coat almost the shade of a red
setter and a blond mane and
tail that even a palomino might
envy, stars in another story of a
small girl who dreams of find
ing the most beautiful horse in
the world.
For comic relief, there are
the Royal Lilliputians, two tiny
white mules (a cross between a
donkey and a pony) who cavort
and prance and shamelessly
beg for applause.
But the real stars are the Lip
izzaners.
“The breed has been near ex
tinction several times,” ex
plained one of the trainers re
cently. “They originated on
Ibiza (the little Spanish island
made famous by Clifford Irv
ing),” he added, patting the
flank of a docilely munching
stallion back in the stables.
The native Iberian horses
were crossed with Arabians
during the invasions of the Bth
Century. The result was the
Andalusian, a horse somewhat
larger than the Arab, with the
same fine bodies, arched necks
and classic heads.”
Later, the Andalusians were
crossed with the Vilano, a now
extinct Roman cavalry horse,
and the Lipizzaner was born.
As every Viennese school
child knows, Emperor Maxi
millian II was so impressed by
the white horses that he
brought them to Austria in 1562
and two years later they were
established as an official breed.
Only noblemen were allowed to
own the horses — commoners
were not permitted even to ride
them, and they were trained to
perform the incredible leaps
and twists of “ballet” to protect
their riders during wartime
from foot soldiers.
Because the climate in Vien
na was thought not right for the
horses, their training school,
founded in 1572, was moved to
Lipizza, then an Italian town
near Trieste, and now a part of
Yugoslavia.
The name remained, al
though today the horses are
bred in the Austrian town of
Fiber and their training is done
in Vienna.
During the Napoleonic wars,
they were evacuated three
times for safety, and each time
the breed dwindled, then was
brought back.
During the last war, how
ever, it was an American who
rescued them. They had been
dispersed during the bombard
ment of Vienna — the mares to
Czechoslovakia and the studs to
the north of Austria. Hitler took
over the studs and had given
away so many of them as gifts,
that with only 12 stallions re
maining, the line was in danger
of extinction once again.
“Then,” said the trainer,
smiling proudly, “Gen.
(George S.) Patton heard about
it. He sent an armored division
into Czechoslovakia to bring
the mares back to Austria
where they were reunited with
the studs.”
Tragedy brings
Ryan to movie
By NANCY ANDERSON
Copley News Service
KNOXVILLE - Tragedy had
brought Robert Ryan to east
Tennessee to make “The Lolly
Madonna War” for MGM.
“When I was first offered this
picture,” he said, “I turned it
down. I liked the script, but my
wife and I were going to Eu
rope.”
In his Knoxville hotel room,
Ryan, an actor who has estab
lished his versatility on both
stage and screen, should have
been sleeping, because he was
going to have to put in a hard
night’s work.
After dusk, the climactic
scene of the picture would be
filmed in a pasture some 40
miles away.
However, instead of sleeping,
the star was revealing the sor
row which had brought him into
the film, the sorrow he hadn’t
learned to accommodate.
Two years ago doctors told
Ryan that he had cancer, and
he (as anyone else would be)
was stunned. Frightened.
“For the first couple of days,
you light a lot of candles,” he
said.
But then he accepted emo
tionally what he already knew
intellectually, that a cancer
diagnosis is not necessarily a
death sentence.
“The American Cancer So
ciety has deliberately tried to
scare people,” Ryan said, “in
hopes of saving lives. But its
campaign has been so success
ful that the very word ‘cancer’
is terrifying.
“When it happens to you, you
discover how many people
have been cured of cancer or,
at least, have had it arrested.
“That’s the main thing I
learned through my experi
ence. Many cancer victims
have been saved.”
Yet, not nearly enough. Not,
Jessica, Ryan’s wife of 33
years, who died three months
ago.
“It took my wife away in a
week,” he said, “and there was
nothing we could do about it. I
still can’t believe it.
“After I learned that I had
cancer, she and I — both of us
— felt that I’d been given extra
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Robert Ryan
time to use in some special
way, but now I don’t know what
to feel.
“After my wife died, I called
my agent and said, ‘I have to go
to work, so find something for
me.’ That was the best idea I
had.
“When he told me a part in
this picture, ‘The Lolly Madon
na War,’ was still open, I took
it.”
Ryan, currently making his
76th picture, has played such
diverse types as John the Bap
tist, a fanatic anti-Semite (in
“Crossfire” for which he was
nominated for an Oscar), a
playboy-millionaire and a sa
distic killer.
Yet, as an adolescent, he was
turned down when he tried for a
part in a prep school production
of “Hamlet.”
Born in Chicago of an immi
grant Irish contractor and an
English schoolteacher, Robert
Bushnell Ryan was educated at
Loyola Academy, a Jesuit
school which instilled the disci
pline still reflected in his good
manners, and at Dartmouth
College where he played foot
ball and was heavyweight box
ing champion.
After his graduation during
the depression, he worked at
jobs ranging from sandhog to
ranch hand until, as an em
ploye of a public school system,
he was assigned to direct a
play, “Dear Brutus,” with a
cast of 12-year-old girls.
This was the experience that
turned him toward acting as a
career.
Ryan went to New York to
play bit parts; then to Holly
wood to study with Max Rein
hardt.
Back in New York in 1941, he
played his first major role op
posite Tallulah Bankhead in
“Clash by Night.”
The next year, he made his
formal film debut in “Bomba
dier” and five years later was
nominated for an Oscar for his
“Crossfire” performance.
Ryan’s grown children, Tim
othy, Cheyney and Lisa, are
“fond of the old man” he thinks
and, since their mother’s
death, have done their best to
reduce his loneliness.